


Shine the Light

by TastesLikeCream



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - Before Smaug, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Baby Dwarves, Bilbo Bilbo, Bisexuality, Durincest, F/M, Fear, Female Bilbo, Fluff and Angst, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Nori, Geographical Isolation, Gold Sickness, Grief/Mourning, Growing Up Together, Isolation, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Postpartum Depression, Racism, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-11 16:18:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4442672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TastesLikeCream/pseuds/TastesLikeCream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It begins with a baby and a hobbit who asks a favor of a wizard. What follows is not what anyone involved expects. Illnesses, attempted kidnappings, long buried secrets, gold sicknesses and ones becoming multiples. It is happening and none of those involved can do anything to slow it down or help without risking everyone involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The room that the three share is small but tidy all except for the desk where the hobbit woman sits. Belladonna Took sits with her back ramrod straight, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she dips the end of her quill into the ink well and counts silently to three seconds before she pulls it out and taps it three times. In his arm chair Gandalf sips his tea and eyes his pipe with a longing stare but does not touch it. He gives the same longing stare at the bassinet in the middle of the room which the baby lies in. The baby’s small frame seems smaller in the bassinet, swallowed up in the clothes and blanket it seems more suited to a doll than it does a hobbit. Smooth, rounded cheeks and full lips, pointed ears peeking from beneath a layer of dark curls they are made completely of soft, rounded corners and edges. 

From his spot Gandalf clears his throat and Belladonna gives her quill three light taps, continuing in her writing as he clears it once then twice more. Finally the wizard sighs and stands, teacup abandoned on the side table he walks towards the bassinet and reaches for the baby. 

“My dear girl I was wondering if I could perhaps take the little one,” The quill scratches across the paper and he sighs. 

“She does not leave Gandalf. If I could have it my way she would never leave this room but since you seem to think something is wrong with me. Bungo left. Bungo got sick. Other children left. The other children died.” 

“Yes, Bungo became ill and so will she if she is not allowed to leave this place for fresh air and to be allowed outside. And yes I think something is wrong with you. All you do is write at your desk, more and more each day you withdraw from the world around you Belladonna Took and I know it is not just from the worries of an ailing husband and a new child. You cannot lie to me. You do not play with your daughter; you do not interact with her. You barely eat; I don’t even think you bathe. How do you remember to breathe if all you do is sit here locked up in this room? Your daughter does not even have a name.” 

“Bilbo. Her name is Bilbo. I would like to be alone now Gandalf, please.” Gandalf opens his mouth then stops, sighing as he turns towards the door. Running a hand through his hair he waits for the scratch of the quill to start up again then he steps out and walks down the hallway to his bedroom. 

And so this routine of back and forth continues. Belladonna withdraws more and more from the world, Gandalf asks and Bilbo continues to grow. It offers up gurgles and the occasional coo, a yawn. But she does not leave the room; she does not leave the tower. Day by day Belladonna Took’s behavior seems to become more and more erratic, more troublesome. Gandalf watches as she crumples up more and more pieces of paper, sliding them off the desk with furious huffs; as soiled diapers are ignored until he tells her only for the quill to be slammed down onto the desk hard enough sometimes to rattle the wood and often feedings are forgotten about. The sink is filled with water, a bar of soap brought and towels laid out but the baby is not put in the water. Belladonna Took stares at the water with the baby in her arms, eyes clouded over with a film. Her touch is not a familiar one, her arms held away from her body as she lowers the still clothed baby to the water. 

“Belladonna give me the baby.” Gandalf says quietly. There is no fuss or fight from either her or the baby and there is no bath that day. There is no bath for the next few days. Gandalf takes the bassinet from the room and Belladonna says nothing but scratches on her paper with her quills. She comes to him a week after the sink incident with her hair down, free for once from its braid and wearing a nightgown with a robe over it. She drinks two cups of tea and eats half a cookie before she speaks. 

“I need you to take her, to take her away from here, to take her away from me, to take her somewhere safe.” Belladonna says and stares at the bassinet where the baby sleeps. 

“Do you not feel that she is safe here with you?” She stares at him with a haunted, worried gleam in her eyes. 

“I’m scared of what exactly I might do to her. Even with constant protection I fear that I could not be stopped from harming her.” Gandalf stands and wanders over to the bassinet. Bilbo is awake, gurgling and cooing. The sounds are soft, pleasant sounds. But with each movement of her mouth, each gurgle and coo Belladonna winces, closing her eyes tighter and tighter until she slaps her hands against the side of her head. 

“I know of a dwarven couple who recently lost a child, just one of those things you understand. Children are rare in their culture and it was premature. It lived for a month and then—perhaps they would take her.” 

“I wrote her a letter that is what she gets a letter. And if someday she would like to meet me Gandalf then we will see. But right now I need for you to take Bilbo and just take her away from me before I hurt her.” Belladonna Took backs out of the room with shaking hands and leaves her tea spilled on the floor. 

Gandalf is left with the care of Bilbo then, the supervision of her. Belladonna locks herself up in the room the three of them previously occupied and he does not dare enter it. He stops by the door every hour and knocks, waiting for the three knocks back then moves on. He packs up Bilbo’s things himself and writes a letter that goes with a raven to Erebor. Their meals are eaten separately, their pipes smoked alone and they do not talk with each other until the day that Gandalf leaves. Even then there is not much talking, not much interaction. He adjusts the sling that holds Bilbo and clears his throat, giving her a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes when she returns it. Belladonna gives a touch to Bilbo’s head and her cheek, a brush across Gandalf’s gnarled knuckles then steps back. 

“You need to get out my dear girl, walk, and taste the fresh air. Return to—just return is all I ask of you.” 

“She gets a letter Gandalf.” Belladonna says dryly and with a smile steps back towards the tower of bone. He mounts his horse and with a deep breath nudges its sides and begins towards Erebor with a hand supporting the firm weight of Bilbo.


	2. Chapter 2

Being outside of the tower is a relief to Gandalf who breathes deeply and does not wait to disappear from sight before he tilts his head back to the sun and climbs off his horse. For Bilbo it is the first time that she has ever been outside and Gandalf watches with silent amazement as the baby takes it all in. From her place in the wrap around his middle she rolls her head back and forth, enormous eyes blinking furiously at the sudden onset of sun in her face and on her head. She has a firm grip on one of her fingers; a tight, unrelenting grip with her tiny fist that is becoming tighter with more and more sun that hits her. Bilbo gurgles and then stretches, dropping his finger to raise her arms and arch her back. The wizard hums and with a hand pressing firmly on her back begins walking, holding the reins of his horse.

“She is enjoying the sun and I see no reason for my shadow to be looming over her any more than necessary. Besides no need to add any extra weight onto your back. I hope you don’t mind my chatter but Bilbo is too young to return the conversation.” His horse does nothing but flick its tail at a stray fly. Gandalf smiles and very deliberately does not look over his shoulder and at the window where he knows Belladonna Took is watching them walk away. The tower he stayed in; the one that Belladonna Took lived in and intended to keep Bilbo in is beautiful in the worst of ways. Made of bone it is tall and threatening, washed white in the sheer sunlight. Even as he walks away he can still see the outlines of several bones, can list off the names that Belladonna told him that she ticked off on her fingers. Gandalf stares at the tower with the names of goblins and orcs, hobbits, elves and even dwarves that make up the bones in his mind, silently ticking them off. He turns away and with a slightly sharper tug to the reins urges the horse along.

Bilbo proves to be resilient in her first few days outside of the tower. She puts up with Gandalf’s poor sense of direction (or rather lack of) as he attempts to make sense of the map given to him by Belladonna. He bounces her and attempts to find some sense in the mostly scribbles of the map, finding several times that they have again taken the wrong turn. Bilbo kicks up a fuss around high noon and late at night over diaper changes and feedings respectively. And she proves to be a loud crier with a very unhelpful horse who does nothing but really watch Gandalf, frazzled as he searches for a diaper or attempts to get her food ready. Still both Bilbo and his horse prove to be enjoyable traveling companions though Gandalf is left lonely. It is unavoidable he knows. He rides during the nights for Bilbo who sleeps on and off.

Gandalf sits atop his horse and attempts to stay awake as he sways and Bilbo snores in her sling. Whenever she is not awake she is sleeping. And when she is awake she is gurgling, cooing, making some sort of noise. These are for the moments she is not crying. Overall Bilbo has proven to be a rather happy and enjoyable baby. He almost wishes that she was fussy and unreasonable, difficult to soothe. Perhaps then it would be difficult to become attached to her. It happens with his meaning to. Gandalf changes her diapers and in return earns small smiles around the fingers in her mouth. He feeds her and she stares at him. He wishes that she would cry more. That she would scream and fuss. That she was difficult to soothe and did not just settle for some bouncing and promises of its all right. It almost makes him reconsider going to Erebor. Almost. They stay in Dale at an inn and for the first time in nearly two months Gandalf has enough food that he feels full at the end of the meal; his horse stays in the stable and he suspects grows fat and happy on hay and oats. His sleep in the bed does not go uninterrupted as Bilbo still wakes up and still needs to be changed, still needs to be fed. And he almost reconsiders going to Erebor. Almost.

* * *

 

Gandalf goes and carries Bilbo in his arms; one of the rare moments that she has been out of her wrap for more than a few minutes for a feed or a change. The time outside has been good for her. Bilbo’s skin still has the baby softness, its pale complexion unmarred from the protection of Gandalf’s shadow. Her hair has gotten longer and begins to curl at the nape of her neck; her arms and legs a little bit longer and thicker than her time in the tower. She is heavier and firmer in his arms, more solid than the first time he ever held her. He holds her tighter than necessary, firmer than necessary even as Bilbo stretches; he keeps a careful, tight grip. She proves to be impatient in the waiting for someone to come. Someone will come to them the guards promise after sticking them into a room which Gandalf thinks is better suited to housing weapons than a wizard and a baby. But he says nothing. These are (he suspects) his last quiet moments with Bilbo and he takes in what he can get.

“I’ve quite enjoyed travelling with you. Do you know that? Perhaps when you are older I shall take you on a grand adventure—when you are of age. Not before then for I do not want to be responsible for the scraped knees.” Bilbo’s answer is a sucking on her fingers and a throaty chuckle. Gandalf loosens but does not give up his hold on Bilbo as he lifts his head to look at Frerin. He is scruffier than the last time Gandalf saw him; beard in need of a brushing and his braids askew; face thinner. Still he smiles warmly at Gandalf, claps his hands together and rubs them vigorously then holds them out expectantly.

“My turn; hand her over. She’s all that the guards can talk about out there.” Gandalf snorts and bit by bit hands Bilbo over, first her head, her neck and then her back and then the rest of her follows.

“I am not deaf you know. I heard their words about her feet and her ears and me, wondering if I had finally gone senile or stolen a baby from the market.” Gandalf snorts and watches as Frerin holds Bilbo. He does not stand still while he holds her. He paces the edge of the room which Gandalf notes is not a very big room. One of his hands pats her on the bottom then moves to her stomach and lets her legs dangle.

“Did you? I’m not saying you shouldn’t steal a baby from the market but if you did I want to be a part of it all next time.”

“I most certainly did not steal this baby from the market. She is...it is complicated. Bilbo was...is the daughter of Belladonna Took, a dear friend of mine. Belladonna Took has been living isolated in a tower of bone crafted by her husband for the protection of her and Bilbo. She was beginning to become unhealthy though; obsessive you see, took her mind to dark places and reared ugly thoughts. She feared what she might have done to Bilbo if she was left with her so she asked me to take her.”

“You brought her here in the hopes that Dís and Vílí would take her, something to help the loss of their previous baby; another girl. Only that one had blonde hair like Fili.”

“How is your sister?”

“If you would like the truth she copes and leans more heavily on Thorin and Vílí than ever. She has thrown herself into work during the days and despite all that she gets done still goes to bed late. The boys are too young to understand—at least that’s what they keep telling themselves. She avoids me. I looked nothing like that child and that child looked nothing like me but we can always find fault in the living. Dís will not accept a new baby let alone a replacement Gandalf. And something tells me that you will not keep her for yourself.”

“Belladonna had one request for whoever was to take over the guardianship of Bilbo and that was to love them as much as she should have been able to. I cannot Frerin. Deep down I am still selfish and want to protect her in a tower of bone, just a different one made by me. And I cannot give the promise that she will be let out and allowed moments outside it all because I am afraid.”

“And here I thought I was the only selfish creature in the room. Come Gandalf. You should see how much the princes have grown in your absence. I’ll be doing the transporting of the baby.”  

Frerin takes him into a much larger, much nicer room decorated with tapestries and bookshelves filled to the brim. There is no dust covering a surface to be seen though it could easily be buried beneath the piles of paperwork covering Frerin’s desk. Gandalf gives it a pointed look as Frerin tells a servant what to do. Meeting Gandalf’s eye he merely shrugs and gives one of his mustaches braids a flick.

“Is a fire really necessary Frerin? I am comfortable.” Gandalf insists as the servant begins to load firewood into the hearth.

“It’s absolutely necessary as is the tea which Dori will be bringing to us.” Gandalf hears the silver haired dwarrow before he sees him. Dori shoulders his way into the room and huffs at the sight of the fire, rolling his eyes as he marches for the table to set the tray down on the paper covered desk. He makes it only halfway before the tray is being shoved at the servant still attempting to load the firewood into the hearth as Dori makes a beeline for Frerin, hands out expectantly who looks thoroughly unimpressed.

“You have your own baby to hold and coddle, this one is mine until further notice. Also you have Nori.”

“I hugged Nori once and he didn’t come home for nearly a month. Oh, excuse me Gandalf. I saw the baby and is she yours?”

“Frerin I am beginning to severely lose my patience with not only you but this situation. I would appreciate it if you would bring your father and grandfather to me, please. I need to discuss things with them. And your siblings if you can take things seriously.” Frerin opens his mouth but Dori beats him to his answer this time.

“They’re meeting with some miners right now and it’s taking longer than expected. Would you like for me to make sure a room is prepared for you?” Dori asks and gives a firm elbow to Frerin’s side. Rolling his eyes the blonde dwarf hands Bilbo back to Gandalf, looking resigned as he heads for the door.

“Well Dori I’m off to deal with the unpleasant task of bringing my brother, father and grandfather here to talk with the wizard. Please while you prepare my room get me something to drink.”

“May I ask why you put up with him?” Gandalf asks and Dori shrugs, motioning for the servant to follow after Frerin.

“Frerin thinks that I need him but really it is him who needs me. Come on; let’s go get a room ready for them. No fire.” The door closes behind them with a loud echo and Gandalf sighs; wishing that he was back at the tower of bone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to my being in school again I will not be as active on here; I am currently taking fifteen hours. I am an admin on a Facebook page but will be taking a break from that as of Monday when I deactivate my account. I'll remain active on my Tumblr though. 
> 
> My Tumblr: http://joeybear1424.tumblr.com/
> 
> Also if you visit the Facebook page I posted a Nina Tucker thing and I am a horrible human being which has made everyone hate me, lol.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally was not going to post this tonight. But I had emailed my professors about if I could use them as references for my nursing program application and got some responses which made me very happy and I just couldn't stop writing. 
> 
> Headcanoned Nori as a genderfluid dwarf.

Gandalf hears the rush of dwarves before he sees them. He is staring at Bilbo who has grabbed hold of one his fingers when the echo of stomping boots and clinking beads begins. It does not have time to start quietly but only grows louder and louder in volume until they are all spilling into the room. Frerin stands back from the crowd, leaning against the doorway with an irritatingly smug expression as he gestures at Gandalf and Bilbo. Thrór is the first one to step forward with the jewels clinking and his heavy beard sweeping back and forth; still dressed in his fine furs and robes, the only sign of anxiety is the slight gleam of cautiousness in his eyes.

“We will not take a replacement child for my grandchild lost, Gandalf. That is. That,” he stares at Bilbo’s head, peeking out from Gandalf’s arms. “Is it a mixed breed?”

“Does it matter if her parents are of two different species? And she is not a replacement; do not speak of her or your grandchild for that matter in such a way,” Gandalf snaps. “She is a child in need of a home. And I believe that we should allow those in question to be the ones to decide…” he nods towards Dís and Vílí. They step forward together, arms linked tightly. It takes a glance over Bilbo and then both are stepping back, shaking their heads.

“It will never replace the one we lost Gandalf,” Vílí sighs. “And we are not looking for something to replace them—I’m sorry.” The only sound that Dís makes is a loud, shaky sob as her face crumples. Gandalf looks away, guilt gnawing at his chest as they make a swift exit towards the door.

“I would not ask you to take a child and toss them outside but leaving them here…,” Thorin trails off. “It is no guarantee that it will not bring trouble. I leave the decision to my father and grandfather.” He turns and follows after Dís and Vílí.

“If Thorin and Dís remove themselves from the decision then I will take their places. I suggest a stay for the baby. Gandalf and the baby may remain her for a determined amount of time, drawn up in contract and when the time is up we come to our decision. It is voted upon by the three of us and the contract written by Balin who will act as mediator. Seeing as Thorin and Dís has removed themselves already their decisions will not hold any weight when the time comes for our final choice to be made.” Frerin says and stares at them. There is a moment of silence, of scowling from his grandfather, a look of surprise from his father then finally they nod.

“I will go and have Balin draw up a contract now. For the duration of their stay they are your responsibility, Frerin.” Thrór says, casting a long glance at Bilbo. He leaves with a clinking of his beads and a swishing of his robes, Thráin following behind him. Gandalf listens to the fading echo of their footsteps then sighs, rolling his eyes towards Frerin.

“Has your father become so cowed by your grandfather that he does not have a voice anymore?”

“The loss of the baby is being taken hard by him along with my grandmother and mother. They’ve all become withdrawn which is to be expected I suppose,” he stares at one of Bilbo’s pointed ears. “Can I hold her? No blankets, no help supporting her head...I would like to hold her.” He forms a cradle with his arms and stares expectantly at Gandalf who hands Bilbo over bit by bit; first her head then her middle and finally her legs.

The first thing Frerin does is grab one of her hands and lay it palm down against his. He purses his lips and frowns, chewing on the inside of his cheek. She still has wrinkled palms and fingers with creases and folds. Frerin drags his nail across one of the wrinkles, into the folds and then stares at his; free of wrinkles they have creases but are more defined; more lines than creases.

“I’m curious, Gandalf. If Bilbo is allowed to stay then what is going to happen to you? Will you be staying or come in and out of her life?”

“A wizard cannot stay in one place. That is impossible for anyone to do. I will be here as much as I can and send letters for when I cannot be.”

“Does she get anything from her mother? I do not understand Gandalf how you just decide that it has become too much and your child will be sent to live with someone else,” in his arms Bilbo stirs and he winces, releasing his tightening grip around her hand. “What happened in that tower?”

“Bilbo gets a letter. She gets a dress, a portrait of her parents. When she is old enough then she may begin to train with her mother’s sword and when whoever ends up raising her feels she is ready, they should tell her about everything. Until then she just,” he shrugs. “She has what she has.”

“You still didn’t answer my other question. What happened in the tow,” there is a knocking on the door, short and abrupt.

Dori sticks his head in the room, looking apologetically at Gandalf as Ori peeks around his legs. The dwarfling is practically swallowed up by his cardigan, his sleeves flap at the air as his hands finally come out and then push his hair back. Behind him is Nori, a wolfish grin on her face as she twists the middle braid of her beard and plays with the collar of her plunging dress.

“Could we perhaps see the baby please?” No sooner does the question does Dori ask the question than Nori is pushing her way into the room and pulling Ori along with her. She sits on the edge of the bed, pulling Ori up with her.

“Absolutely everyone is talking about you Gandalf. And oh, if you could hear the things they are saying about you,” Nori singsongs. “It’s quite nasty really.”

“Dori said they’re being,” Ori’s mouth twists with concentration. “Rude?”

“Wonderful to see you, Nori. Frerin, would you help Ori hold the baby? Dori...take me somewhere please from the stubbornness of dwarves and get some tea,” he sighs. “And if I return to find one hair out of place on the precious head of Bilbo then remember Frerin, I can turn you into a toad.”

His warning falls on deaf ears as Frerin and Nori adjust a pillow and coach Ori on just how to hold Bilbo’s head.

* * *

 

Dori and Gandalf seat themselves in what Dori calls a ‘private’ part of the kitchen. In truth, it is not all that private. There are still cooks and servants around to listen to their talk and watch but the table is shoved into a corner and hidden for the most part behind barrels and sacks of flour.  

“Tell me Gandalf,” Dori begins, casting a harsh glance towards an eavesdropping cook. “From the beginning, please.”

“My last visit with Belladonna and Bungo, everything was perfectly fine. They were still in the Shire and the winter was arriving. There were children being born, children growing and couples preparing to be married. I looked at Belladonna and Bungo, practically aglow with happiness,” he sighs. “I returned a year later to discover that most of the houses had been boarded up and only a few hobbits remained. Attempts to talk about what happened were met with strong resistance until one hobbit told me to go and find Belladonna. That she and the others had gone in an attempt to find safety, to find food and never returned. No letters, no word of how they were faring. I found Bag End, that’s their home. I found it in poor condition and most of their possessions missing. When I looked I found a letter.” He takes a long sip of his tea, wincing. He may as well be drinking ashes.

“Belladonna said that an orc party had come through the Shire looking for her. Being settled there she refused to relent. They did not want her dead and since she refused to relent, attempted to take the Shire. Bungo compromised with them and agreed to build her a tower of bone for which she and the others could live in. Those willing to go did. But many refused to leave their homes. By the time I found it, Belladonna had given birth to Bilbo though Bungo and many of the other hobbits had passed. Those that had not passed had left and died of exposure.”

“What happens to Belladonna now that she’s broken her...contract? What happens if the orcs come to check?”

“Belladonna would not discuss the orcs with me. She has survived on barren landscape, watching her husband, family and friends all slowly pass away. All I was allowed to know was that she could defend herself and the food given to her would let her survive. What happened after I left she said was not to be worried about. As long as she stays then there should not be a break in the contract.”

“Frerin will be a decent father.”

“That does not make me feel calmed, Dori.”

“He would care for her, about her. Protect her from the things that might threaten her. While he encourages skinned knees and elbows and bruises. He could protect her from the danger of this place. There is something wrong with the king.”

“What do you mean something wrong?”

“He is beginning to exhibit some odd behaviors is all? He was found the other day in the library and had seemed to be there for hours. When they attempted to communicate with him, he simply stared at them. He snapped out of whatever it was and walked out like nothing had happened.”

“Something to perhaps keep an eye on,” he mutters, glancing at his now cold tea. “I believe I’ve had enough. I’m going to return to my rooms.”

* * *

 

Ori is still holding Bilbo whose head is supported mostly by a pillow. Bilbo has her fingers wrapped around one of his braids and stares at him with wide eyes. Frerin sits not too far from them, watching with his legs extended in front of him. Nori is gone from the room, something which Dori is quick to notice. Gandalf hears him sigh and then the door slams none too gently.

“She and Ori are already forming a friendship,” Frerin says as the door slams. “It is mostly staring contests and holding fingers but a friendship.”

“Any idea where Nori has gone off to Frerin?”

“Gandalf you gave me the task of watching the baby. Not the baby and Nori. But if I was to guess she is attempting to wriggle her way into the armor of a certain guard.”

“Have you really any idea what you have gotten yourself into, Frerin?”

“No, I cannot say that I have though I’ve a feeling that soon I will.’

It takes the first whimper from Bilbo that turns into a loud, red faced crying that he realizes. By now Ori has gone with Dori who returned, dragging Nori by her ear and grumbling. He stares first at Bilbo and then at Gandalf who shrugs. Frerin turns back to Bilbo, frowning.

“You ate already and we burped you several times,” he murmurs. “I’ve the spit up on my arm to prove it. You’re wrapped up and I know babies enjoy that. Oh. There is the smell.”

“I certainly hope that you’ve gotten enough sleep. She will be up in a few hours for another change and feed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not replying to comments lately. I read each and every one of them, I have been withdrawn from the world here lately. 
> 
> I am terrible about leaving and replying to them. I see the things you leave and read them and will get around to replying. Please realize that I absolutely enjoy each and every one <3 and if you are curious then let me know and I will do my best to answer it should it not be a spoiler.


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